Protectors
by jamesf141
Summary: Not all whitecoats are bad. Some, for reasons best kept secret, are working against Itex. Max, and her flock, play a key role in their plans- and, therefore, must remain alive. Who gets the job of protecting them? You guessed it- moi. I love my job.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer- I don't own Max Ride. I want to, 'cos that'd be cool, but I don't. Almost everything in this story is based entirely on MR ('cos it's a MR fanfic). Plot follows MR plot closely. Blame James Patterson, not me.

All characters and plotlines not mentioned in the book come out of my _imagination_. And people in my class. And school. Aw, what the…

--

Excerpt from Dr. Gillams' Journal

_Experiment 625 has, so far, turned out to be a success. 625-Alpha has shown some interesting healing capabilities, and all six seem to show a high intellectual ability. However, our simulations show that their lifespan of Alpha may not be as long as the others. We hope that he will be able to hold the expiration date at bay for several weeks after our chosen date, but only if he notices it straight away._

_625-Beta-zero has shown an interesting ability with minds; not quite as interesting as [CENSORED]'s, but is still able to influence minds at a basic level._

_625-Beta-five has shown no interesting abilities. Well, apart from the wings, anyway, but that was obvious._

_625-Sigma-one has topped flying speeds of 170mph._

_We added 1% shark DNA into 625-Sigma-nine, as a simple experiment. Swimming abilities seem a little over normal, but sense of smell is several times stronger than the average mutants._

_625-Epsilon-seven appears to have the ability to shrink. This will be highly useful for infiltrating [CENSORED]._

_625-Omega has high strength, speed on land, and is the only member of experiment 625 that has not got wings. He was designed by [CENSORED] but they scrapped the idea. We nicked it. He is the perfect warrior, and can take out [CENSORED] with ease. His major weakness lies in a [CENSORED], which is able to be [CENSORED]. It slows down his ability to [CENSORED]. THIS IS ONLY TO BE USED IN AN EMERGENCY. He has been shown to be corruptible. Update: Omega has recently been captured. [CENSORED] may be behind this._

_Both Alpha and Beta-zero have powerful hand-eye coordination, which is shown in their choice of accurate weapons (See below)._

_Alpha also shows an interest and skill in both mechanics and mathematics. He has designed a sniper scope that uses trigonometry and sonic waves in order to make sure that the cross hair is exactly where the bullet will hit. He has also trained in First aid._

_Beta-zero has a high moral code. He never really uses it. He just has it._

_All experiments appear to have a low-level telepathic field, which they use to communicate with each other. Communication seems to be the only use of this field so far._

_In weapons training, Alpha appears to prefer the sniper rifle. Beta-zero uses the CR-21 sniper/assault rifle (upgraded with Alpha's designs). Beta-five and Epsilon-seven prefer twin pistols; Sigma-one and Sigma-nine like machine guns. All weapons are usually silenced._

_Social abilities show that Sigma-one, as the only female among the group, likes the company of other girls her age. The others, except for Alpha and Beta-zero, enjoy the presence of girls other than Sigma-one. (Beta-zero seems to have a very strong sense of self-control. Up until recently, I believed the same of Alpha. However, last night I found a photo of [CENSORED] under his pillow)_

_All in all, I believe that as from next week, experiment 625 will be able to start their mission…_

End of Excerpt

--

AN- this is by far the shortest chapter. The others will be way longer.

Please R+R. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own Max Ride. I own the characters I've made up. See AN for details.

--

Chapter 1

Ok, from what I've seen on CCTV, the School is probably the worst place I can think of. They treat mutants like dirt. Which is kinda unfair. There are all these laws against prosecuting someone because of the _colour of their skin_ but absolutely none against prosecuting someone because of the fact they _are not entirely human_. Do I hear anyone saying 'mutantist'?

I mean, people fantasise about having wings and flying. And, in the world, there are twelve people with the 'luck' to have that ability. Six of them spent their childhoods in dog-crates at the mercy of sadistic spawns of Satan who were disguised as genetics scientists.

So what if they really were genetics scientists? They abuse the non-human rights act. Oh, wait- there isn't one. How unfair for mutants.

Some of you might have worked out by now that I'm not rambling on for any reason in defence of poor, defenceless children, and that I'm one of the twelve. Well done.

Thankfully, I'm one of the other six. Yeah, I have not had the 'Dog-crate' experience. And the genetics scientists who created me are more of angels than demons. Well, they provide chocolate-chip cookies. Which makes everything better.

Actually, the people who created me are kind, warm-hearted individuals. And although there isn't a mutant rights act, they consider us human enough to abide by the human rights act. So, rather than do evil experiments on us to test us to our limits, and don't stop until we faint/vomit/die, they test us 'till we say, "Stop". What kind people we have looking after us.

The only thing that we don't like is our names. We were allocated an 'Experiment number'. I, for example, am Experiment 625-Alpha. I'm the eldest. I'm in charge.

Though we've all come up with names for ourselves. Real names, and nicknames. I'm James Fox, or Foxy.

Then there's Robin Woodrow, and when he was about to come up with a nickname for himself, we decided to call him Robbie. We were bored. He likes it.

Amelia Jones is Amy, Jack Beddoes is John (None of us bother with it, though), Nathan Walker is, well, Nathan, and Geevahan Vaikundavasen (Who came up with that? Oh, wait, him) is Geev.

And I'm the only one who's British. In fact, I'm the only successful recombinant who's British. I'm the first British recombinant. Which means I can go in the record books.

We've spent our entire lives in this one building. Tomorrow they're letting us out.

--

Of course, before they let us go they had to brief us.

A large man in a completely tasteless suit was narrating a completely pointless PowerPoint on the flock- the six other mutants who we were supposed to protect.

Unfortunately, until today, we had no idea what from.

"This," explained Mr. Bad Suit, "Is an Eraser."

He pointed at a picture of what I presumed to be a werewolf. I had to hand it to these people; they were very good at CGI.

"Erasers are half human half wolf," he continued.

Just like werewolves then.

Robbie grinned.

'_Werewolves?' _He thought.

'_Just what I was thinking myself.' _I sent the thought back with the picture from the PowerPoint but underneath a full moon.

We both covered our mouths with our hands to stop giggling.

Oh yeah, didn't I tell you? We can all communicate via a telepathic field. It's a bit like MSN. Cool, eh?

"Erasers are usually heavily armed. They also blend in well."

'_Yep, that thing would not stand out in a shopping queue.'_ Robbie thought.

I took deep breaths to avoid laughing.

"They can morph," explained Bad Suit Guy, noticing my attempts to not giggle, "From human to this state easily. Need I point out that this information may save your life, and therefore you should listen?"

I put on a 'who, moi?' expression, and closed the telepathic link.

Dr. Gillams, who was two years older than me (and had been a genetics expert since the age of _two_. Long story. Remind me to tell ya all later) stood up.

"Alpha, please listen to me, at least," he said.

"Ok," I replied.

"Erasers are dangerous…"

'_No, you don't say.'_

Robbie managed not to laugh.

"…and will also try to kill the flock. They will always outnumber all of you, so be on your guard." Dr. Gillams sat down.

Bad Suit Man stood up.

"You may go. You know the co-ordinates. Here are the people you must protect."

An assistant handed out pictures of all the flock with their names underneath each photo. Like we needed them.

--

I can understand why humans dream of flying. It's graceful. It's fun. It's good exercise.

It's flipping tiring.

"Foxy?" Moaned Geev, "are we nearly there yet?"

"I told you _two minutes_ ago that it'd only be another _five minutes_."

I couldn't blame him. He was the youngest, and we had only had a thousand calories that day. We needed more than that- _three times more than that_. No wonder he was tired.

Robbie flew up next to me. Well, when I say next, I mean about thirty feet away. Our wingspans were 14 feet, and we still hadn't mastered flying with one wing over another person's wing.

"I was just thinking…" he started.

"What?"

"Well, those Eraser things look quite tough."

"They have pistols. I have a sniper rifle. You have an assault/sniper rifle. The others have twin pistols and machine guns. Plus we all have knives and real good close combat fighting skills. Easy."

"Ok," he said, though he didn't sound too sure. To be honest, I wasn't either. But when you're a leader, you have to lead. And that means being positive that you're gonna succeed.

We landed by the flock's house. I've got to admit, that architect was brilliant. Won't waste your time with descriptions, but it was pretty darn amazing.

We hid in the nearby woods until the sun set, then we crept over to the house. I motioned to the others to hide behind a bush, and pulled in my wings.

'_Robbie, come with me'_ I thought. Reluctantly Robbie followed me to the window. We looked in. Max was sitting on a sofa, drinking hot chocolate, reading a book. Fang was just sitting down. The others weren't in the room at all. Probably in bed or out flying.

Out flying.

I looked to the south. I could see four dark blobs on the horizon, but they were getting larger. Uh-oh. Not good.

'_Into the forest'_ I yelled mentally (mentally as in 'in my head' not 'mad'). The group obeyed. Robbie and I crept around the back of the house, as Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel arrived. They opened the door, and walked in. We waited five minutes, and went back to the window. Max was putting the younger flock members to bed.

'All clear'

The others went back to their position behind the bush.

--

A while later (like, an hour or two), Fang, Iggy and Max trailed upstairs to bed. They looked tired. Excuse me? Did I look tired? No. Had they just flown all day? Again, no. Had I? Yes.

'_Ok, guys. Get some rest.' _I thought. I trailed into the wood, and the others followed me. We soon found a clearing, and fell asleep within minutes.

--

AN- Ok, this is all there is before the events of 'The Angel Experiment'

Please R+R. I, we, really appreciate it. Thanks a load.

Any similarity to actual people, real or dead, is completely coincidental. Unless you know me. In which case it's _completely coincidental_


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- MR is not my idea. I didn't come up with it, I don't own it. This story is my idea (mainly).

--

Chapter 2

In your life, is being attacked by human-lupine hybrids with pistols and cool high-tech gadgets, a helicopter and evil plans to capture small children a major, everyday threat? Didn't think so. Well, in ours it is.

That morning I had watched the Flock get up, and, of course, have breakfast. At least, they started to. Gazzy… well, let's just say his name's 'The Gasman' for a reason.

Then, they decided to get some fresh air. So they went for a walk.

Which was about the time the Erasers showed up in a helicopter. This was _not_ going to be a good day.

I flew up to the height of the helicopter. There were at least 100 erasers. This was not the sort of thing that the flock could handle on their own.

'_Guys!' _I screamed telepathically, _'Get the Erasers before they get to the flock!'_

Five small avian-human hybrids burst out from the cover of the woods. I smiled, took out my knife, and started slashing at the nearest eraser's parachute. He dropped like a stone, and I heard a satisfying squelch as he hit the ground.

I went for the next eraser, just as Robbie joined me with his knife. Why were we the only two using this strategy? 'Cos the others could still fire their guns whilst flying. Seriously, do you know how difficult it is to use a sniper scope whilst _remembering to flap your wings_? No, I guess you don't.

I think between the two of us, we took out about 40 erasers. The others took out at least 40 others. There were five erasers still on the helicopter, afraid of getting caught in our fire. I motioned to Robbie to come with me. We flew into the helicopter.

Five werewolf-like creatures were thrown out of a helicopter just a few seconds later. Minus their parachutes. Now all that was left was the pilot. We couldn't be bothered.

Our first mistake of the day was made.

--

And now they had Angel. Oh, yay. This was all my fault. Why? Because:

I had overestimated the flock. They took out very few erasers- _zero_. This might be the reason these people need protecting.

I didn't take out the pilot. So the Erasers still had the helicopter. So they managed to take Angel away.

Needless to say we're going to need to increase our protection from now on.

Waiting several minutes after Max left with Fang and Nudge on their 'rescue mission', Me, Robbie, Amy and Nathan followed, while I left Geev and Jack behind, 'cos they were the most immature.

So, the four of us, each carrying a backpack with enough food to last us two weeks, set off to California.

--

The view from the air that we had was great. Seriously, it had to be the best view I'd ever seen. And that includes the Grand Canyon, the view from the top of the Empire State building, and the Hollywood sign. Which is now mashed up. Remind me to tell ya about it sometime…

But, as usual in our lives, there was a problem. A biggie. While we had enough supplies to last two weeks (three of we rationed them), the flock had none. Which meant they had to break into a vacation house for food. Leaving me to fly large circles around the house while the others watched from the ground. They seemed to be taking a long time. A very long time.

After an hour, I decided to find out what was happening.

'_Robbie, what the hell is going on in there?' _I asked, as politely as I could. I haven't got that much patience.

'_They've fallen asleep.' _

When I'm feeling impatient, I prefer short, simple answers. That was _too_ short. And too simple.

'_They've WHAT?'_

'_Fallen asleep.' _

I swore.

'_Ok, set up camp.'_

I flew gently down, and landed smoothly, tucking my wings in. Man, that flock is just too badly organised.

--

"I'll take first watch," I said. It was past sunset, and Max, Nudge and Fang hadn't woken up yet. I'd won 200 rock-paper-scissors games, lost five (Robbie cheated. Note to self: Never play rock-paper-scissors with a mind reader).

'_Night Foxy.'_

'_Goodnight Amy.'_

Why did Amy do that every night? She could just say it out loud. Wouldn't harm her.

I sat, back against a tree trunk, watching through the window to see if the flock woke up, and checking around for enemies. Like erasers. Who, to my complete and utter surprise, had turned out to be real. Weird.

I yawned, and stretched my arms forward, hoping that Jack and Geev were-

Asleep

Being _sensible_

I yawned again, and my eyes started to close.

I thought I saw a flash of dark fur in the trees.

My eyes snapped open.

'_Robbie, Nathan, Amy, WAKE THE HELL UP! ERASERS!'_

'_Sometimes you could just call me…' _Robbie moaned.

Yep, telepathic fields work when someone's asleep too. Ah, the joys of special powers.

I lay down on my stomach, and pulled my sniper out of my bag. This time they were going down. I mean, with a sniper scope _this_ good…

They came out from the trees, sharp claws and knives as their weapons. Obviously scouts- not actually supposed to be in a big fight.

Which is where Nathan's AK-47 and Amy's Uzi came in handy.

The fight was long and hard. We had taken out about fourteen erasers, when two ganged up on Amy, knocking her gun out of her hands. They started slashing with their knives.

I aimed the cross-hair carefully, and fired.

'_Headshot!' _I thought.

I'd done more than I first thought- the bullet had gone straight through one eraser's head and into the other's. Talk about killing two wolves with one stone. I'm just glad we used armour-piercing rounds.

My special armour-piercing rounds which could go through _three_ layers of armour.

I smiled, as Robbie slashed down the last eraser. Could this be _any _easier?

I had to admit it would be easier if the Erasers weren't stronger than humans.

Or if they weren't there.

Still, we thrashed them. Like, one cut for every three erasers killed. A cut so small we'd probably never remember it was erasers who caused it and think we'd bumped into a rosebush or something.

"Ok, guys. That's that. Robbie's watch," I said.

I smiled as I settled down for my hour-long sleep before my next watch. I loved my job.

I took one last look back through the window of the vacation home. Max was still sleeping on a sofa. Her hair was tangled and messy from turning over in her sleep. Her eyes were closed, and she looked really peaceful.

I _really_ loved my job.

--

AN: OK, the only reason I will probably not mention reviews in AN's is mainly due to the fact I've written chapter three before I even put the prologue up. So yeah, I won't mention reviews for a while, but I will reply to all reviews sent in. 'Cos its fun.

So, even if I don't mention reviews 'till chapter 4, please R+R. Pretty please?


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- Maximum Ride is copyright of _someone who isn't me_. Therefore, I don't own it. If I did, I wouldn't have to bother coming up with a disclaimer each chapter.

The plot and characters belong to me and the people they're based on and James Patterson, depending on which character/plot twist you're talking about. This is way too complicated for me.

--

Chapter 3

Max was in a house. A warm house. With people she liked. Eating _home baked chocolate-chip cookies_. Laughing. Having _fun_.

I was stuck outside, in the pouring rain, on my own, freezing cold, eating the scraps from last night's rabbit. Shivering. Having no fun whatsoever.

I hate my job.

--

THE PREVIOUS DAY

Ok, no matter how brilliant a leader she is, Max has some pretty large flaws. Like, you know, fighting for the underdog. In every situation.

So, if she sees someone in need of help whilst on an important rescue mission that needs to be carried out _as swiftly as possible_, she'd help the person in need.

Which is exactly why I'm now standing on a rooftop, watching Max beat the stuffing out of some bullies. With guns. And she, minus any sort of weapon whatsoever, was winning. One of them was already unconscious.

And then, for some absurd reason, she legged it into the woods.

Leaving me to deal with the bullies.

I, however, had a knife. Did I need to use it- no. Did I use it- again, no.

The look on the lead bully's face when I dropped onto him from twenty feet, jogging his aim and making him hit a tree instead of Max, was priceless.

Unfortunately while I was busy beating him to pulp, the remaining bully managed to get a shot in. And hit Max.

This deserved a roundhouse kick followed by a pummelling he'd never forget. Which is exactly what he got.

--

"Robbie," Nathan started.

"What do you want this time?" Robbie asked.

"Where's Fox gone?"

Robbie sent Nathan an image of Fox staring at Max, drooling.

'_Oh,'_ Nathan thought back.

"Nah, he's making sure she's _alright_," Robbie said sarcastically.

"Taking care of her _every need_," Amy said, joining in.

"That's his job, isn't it?" Asked Nathan.

Robbie looked at Amy and rolled his eyes. Amy smiled.

"Am I missing something here?" Nathan asked.

Robbie and Amy started rolling on the floor in fits of laughter.

"TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" yelled Nathan.

Robbie and Amy managed to stop laughing. Robbie sent the image again. Nathan joined in the laughter.

--

Finding Max posed a bit of a problem. But I did it, eventually. She was badly injured, I guessed, judging by the way she hadn't flown of to join Fang and Nudge. But she wasn't badly injured enough to stay put altogether.

So she was walking. I was flying in circles overhead to keep up with her slow walking pace. I hoped she was ok.

And it seemed she was. She walked for ages, until she came across a house. A house that just happened to belong to the family of the girl she'd saved earlier.

What a coincidence, eh?

And, 'cos she'd saved the girl, she was even invited in. Excuse me? Who beat the bullies to a pulp? Who saved Max from one bullet? Who spent an hour flying over woods to find Max? Moi. Who wasn't getting to go in a nice warm house? Moi. Well, moi and the dog.

So I watched through windows as Max's new friends discovered her wings.

So here's today's list of moans:

Max being wounded.

Max revealing her wings to strangers.

Max being in a warm house with nice people, me being in rain with dog.

Describing today as crap is probably the understatement of the century.

--

PRESENT DAY

So that's how I ended up outside, wet, cold and eating rabbit, and Max ended up inside, dry, warm and eating chocolate-chip cookies.

And now she's going to the vet's.

I've got to admit, I'm a bit scared about my cunning plan to make sure everything goes ok at the vet's. It's gonna take a lot of preparation.

--

"Hi, I'd like to do a report for the local paper's 'young journalist' competition," I said, whilst smiling sweetly at the receptionist, "and I was planning on using this vetinary surgery as a topic. Are there any minor operation's, like X-rays or something, that I could watch?"

"Well Dr. Martinez is showing a friend of her daughter's an operation in five minutes," said the receptionist, obviously unaware that the operation would be _on _said friend, "I'm sure you can go in and see that too."

"Cool," I said.

Which is how I managed to sneak my way into Max's X-ray.

Getting past Dr. Martinez was another matter.

"Who said you could come in here?" She practically screamed in my face when I knocked lightly on the door.

"Umm, can have a word, please? In private?" I asked. Dr Martinez, after assuring Max that she'd be back in a minute, took me into her office. I lifted up the back of my shirt, and turned around. Well, if Max trusted this lady enough to show her her wings, I guess I could too.

I didn't trust her with much else, though. Like, secret knowledge and that sort of thing.

Without saying a word, Dr Martinez, led me back to the operation room, and let me sit down.

"Is this boy a friend of yours, Max?" she asked.

Before Max could say 'No' I interrupted.

"No, I'm an experiment created for the sole purpose of making sure her group of friends would survive."

Max frowned. This, of course, was completely new to her. I saw no need to mention the others- they, at least, could remain a secret, even if I could not.

"I see," said Dr Martinez, and smiled.

--

Well, the op went fine. Sort of. Max would recover quickly, at any rate. But she had a microchip in her arm. Which couldn't be taken out.

When conversations were over (and Dr. Martinez had dealt with an Eraser who was undercover trying to find Max), I was invited back to the Martinez's house. Well, anything's better than a wet soggy garden with a fat dog.

--

Unfortunately, they only had the one guest room (currently filled with Max), so I slept on the floor. I was ok with that. Comfy, plushy, _dry_ carpet is better than soggy, damp grass.

"By the way," Max whispered, "what's your name? I never asked."

"Well, I'm experiment 625-Alpha…" I decided not to give my name away. Partly because I still had to keep some cover, partly because it wasn't real anyway.

"So you're protecting the flock."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"So why didn't you save Angel?" Max asked.

"Well, I tried. I took out quite a lot of erasers in that battle. From what I remember, you took out none."

"You could have destroyed the chopper."

And, in that typical Max way, she'd hit the nail right on the head. Actually, she'd missed and hit me on the thumb. Which hurt a lot more.

"I just… I made a mistake. It's all my fault, ok?"

"Don't worry about it. It's fine, everyone makes mistakes," she said comfortingly. I could tell she felt differently, but it was nice she was making the effort. She was so much better a leader than me.

There was silence for a while.

"Max?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can you, like, not mention me to anyone? Even if you tell your life story to an author to tell the world about yourself or something stupid like that, don't mention me whatsoever. Please?"

"Sure," she replied. We fell asleep shortly after that.

--

AN- Well, that certainly turned out completely differently to how I expected. I think it was better than the original idea. And, for those of you who were wondering, there is a reason I've taken ages to update- Writer's block. Chap 6 is just too hard.

R+R! Please! Almost 100 people have read this (by the time you read this, it'll be about 250). Hardly any of those people have reviewed. This is not that good, by any standards. Still, thanks a load to the 4 people who have reviewed so far…

I'm not going to do that stupid thing where I order you to give more reviews or I don't post. That's just… well… stupid. But it would be nice to see more reviews.

I'm babbling again, aren't I. I'll just stop now.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- See previous chapters.

--

Chapter 4

Excerpt from Dr Gillams' Journal

_It's been almost a week since 625 left. I must admit they have performed remarkably indeed. Much better than I thought they would, anyway._

_Update on Experiment 625-_

_625-Alpha has proven to be a strong and decisive leader. He is strong, and intelligent, but his major weakness is emotions. NB- Cancel emotions in [CENSORED]_

_625-Beta-Zero has shown to be fast and good with his close-combat knife._

_625-Beta-Five is still as immature as ever._

_625-Sigma-One has had no interesting recent developments_

_625-Sigma-Nine has proven to be slightly less intelligent than we had hoped for when it comes to jokes._

_625-Epsilon-Seven is just annoying._

_No information has yet been received on the whereabouts of 625-Omega. This is not good- our best scouts, experiment 497, are doing their best to find him. Maybe Sigma-Nine's highly developed sense of smell will be useful in finding him._

_Experiment 625, as a whole, seems to be performing to adequate standards, and I believe it is time to turn my attention to Experiment 626…_

End of Excerpt

--

Dr. Gillams sighed. It had been another long, hard day. The simulations for 626 were proving chaotic, and a stable combination seemed to be eluding him.

He'd tried everything- the chameleon worked well, as did the bat. By working on the shark DNA he had placed in Sigma-Nine, he had even managed to give them the shark's sixth sense of electrical pulses. But the simulation showed that the main point of 626 would not work, no matter how he tried.

So, recently, he'd decided to start afresh for this part of his new 'project'. He had decided to create his own new DNA that did not belong to any existing animals. But it was proving hard.

No matter what, though, he would do it. 626 would be a success. Even Omega would be helpless against it in battle.

Years of hard work and research by the worlds biggest company led up to this. He had backing from his old mentor, Dr Roland ter Borcht. He had backing from the Director, and even Nino Pierpont was willing to give him money.

By separating from them, he had doomed the whole project. But they were evil; they wanted to use 626 for purposes that might doom half of the world's population. _Exactly_ half of the world's population, if they did it right.

But since he'd left, they had been unable to continue. But they tried their best. They even got that loon Dr Batchelder to create the flock. They didn't tell him the flock's true purpose, of course, even though he oversaw the whole project. They told him lies, too many to count. All to make sure that _they_ were the ones who got 626 first…

--

I won't talk about the whole 'leaving is sad' thing, 'cos it's pretty obvious. We left, it was sad, we both missed Dr Martinez. Still do- fact.

Let's just leave it at the whole 'leaving is sad' sentence. I don't want to talk about it.

What I _do_ want to talk about is the backpack full of chocolate chip cookies Dr Martinez and Ella gave me. There was a mix- single and double choc-chip, and a few plain and chocolate cookies. Needless to say, they were all brilliant.

As was the little hole in the cliff Fang and Nudge had found.

The top of the cliff that Robbie had found was less so.

"Top of a _cliff_?" I practically yelled at Nathan when I got back. Max and I had agreed to go to lake Mead by different routes, so as to avoid the flock seeing me. My way was quicker.

"I didn't choose it," Nathan said truthfully, "Where've you been?"

'Sleeping in a comfy, warm house with chocolate-chip cookies and a kind person who took both me and Max in,' didn't seem like quite the right thing to say.

"Making sure Max was alright," I replied. He started to giggle. I narrowed my eyes.

"What are you laughing at? You do know that that _is_ my job, right?"

He laughed harder. This, I concluded, was not going well.

I changed tack.

"Where are the others, anyway?"

--

**TIPISCO, ARIZONA.**

**1 HOUR EARLIER**

Ari Batchelder. Robbie had only ever seen him on CCTV tapes from four years back, but the change was remarkable.

And completely disgusting.

To turn a normal, _three-year-old_ child into this was astounding. Astoundingly crazy, mad and sick. Especially as his father was the one who did it to him- or at least allowed it to happen.

Robbie felt sorry for the small child he had seen on the CCTV tapes. This monster with a gun was _not_ the same kid.

That kid would never attempt to shoot Nudge and Fang. Or tell them _lies_.

They deserved that green paint.

'_Okay, they've been gone long enough,' _Robbie thought.

'_What if those Erasers see us?'_

'_Then you fly as fast as you can away. I'll hold them off.'_

It seemed like a safe plan to Robbie. There was no chance they'd get anywhere near him. He got out his assault/sniper rifle.

'_GO!'_

_--_

My life is useless. It is utterly pointless and dull. I have to put up with this boredom 24-7. I could turn emo.

In case you're wondering what's got me in such a bad mood- Geev and Jack are back.

And Robbie, Amy and… wait, Nathan didn't go away. Oh well.

And the stories they told were worse than them. Iggy and Gazzy had lots of fun with bombs, oil slicks and other things. Why did I send Geev and Jack to watch them? I want to see a fireball!

What is worse than my luck? Robbie's story.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said. I respected the flock, but Nudge going to Tipisco on a hunch? Give me a break. This lot would be easier to protect if they let _us_ save Angel.

Thinking about it, that didn't seem like that bad an idea. Geev could shrink and fly through the lock of the school's door and open it from the inside. Nathan and Amy could let all hell loose with machine guns. We'd just storm the school, save all of the recombinants, get Angel out of there and get her back to the flock.

But that would involve leaving only Jack and possibly Robbie (no way am I missing a mission like that) to guard the flock. Not the best idea, eh?

Ah well, I'll think of something.

--

'Flock' plus 'money' equals 'flock happy'.

'Flock' plus 'car' equals 'me finding out how badly Max drives'.

'Flock' plus 'food' equals 'unfair'.

If I hadn't actually met Max recently, I would grumble about how we're doing all the work and how they're getting paid for it. In food.

Because I met Max recently I'm going to complain about how unfair it is that _she's not sharing the food with me even though I'm standing outside the window waving._ Though the fact that their meal was interrupted by the appearance of, I don't know, twenty erasers kind of counts as one excuse.

And the fact that we had enough food to last us three more days means I was probably being a little selfish.

It's still unfair.

--

AN: Well that was fun… I said I'd change my rant, and so I have! Happy now??

R +R!


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- Theoretically I could put anything I like here because no one ever bothers to read disclaimers because they're just legal stuff- HEY! Why are you reading this? All right, I'm not James Patterson and I don't own Max Ride. Happy now?

-

Chapter 5

Needless to say, what with protecting the flock being my job, being close to the flock is a sensible idea. When they've been captured by Itex and the whitecoats, I don't really want to be this close. The Dog-crate didn't help the 'I wanna get outa here' thoughts I was having.

Now I see why kids don't like School.

-

**ONE HOUR PREVIOUSLY**

'Foxy,' Geev moaned.

'_Yes?' _I snapped. I may have mentioned this before- my patience is the size of a peanut. No, I've changed my mind. The size of a _pea_.

'_Max has gone off the road, crashed into a car and the flock is being captured by erasers.'_

Damn it. I'd spent so long worrying about how annoying Geev was I hadn't noticed.

Am I a good leader? Don't answer that- I don't want to hear it.

'Guys, there's nothing we can do. We're gonna track them to the school, and then… ARGH!'

A sharp pain erupted in my chest, and went just as quickly. I looked down.

'_Hey, that's a tranquilliser dart,'_ Robbie thought mock-helpfully.

I was not in the mood for Robbie's jokes. Then again, I wasn't really in the mood for doing anything… except, maybe, falling asleep…

'_Get… outa here,'_ I thought. I felt drowsy. I plummeted like a stone.

-

"Dr Gillams, there's a call for you."

Gillams stopped programming, and turned to his secretary, Sarah. She was holding up a phone.

"Who's it from? I'm busy," He said sternly.

"Roland ter Borcht, sir. He say's its important."

Gillams sighed. He'd almost made a breakthrough on 616's DNA. That'd have to wait.

This was more important.

"Fine, put me through."

-

PRESENT TIME

That's the last thing I remember. Plummeting from about, say, a hundred metres. And now I wake up to find myself in a dog-crate. Doesn't take a genius to work out what happened.

And do you know what the worst bit is? I'm not even in the same room as Max. How unfair is that?

But even that didn't worry me. Ever since I'd woken up, I'd felt something weird on telepathic field. Normally, I can tell where the others were by feeling where they emitted 'psychic energy' from, but it only worked to a range of five hundred metres. Also, I could tell which signal was which. But it seemed like there was some sort of interference coming from the next room, an area that had its own telepathic field. Only one person I knew of could have that without me realising who it was.

Angel.

So I tried to link the fields. If I could get her to relay a message to Max who was (probably) in the same room I'd be happy.

Needless to say I failed.

-

Seeing Max was like seeing the sun rise/set. Beautiful. I had almost forgotten how nice she looked when she felt like tearing someone to shreds.

But enough about her (how often am I gonna say _that_?). I was more intrigued by the whitecoat who was with her. His face was constantly facing away from me, but I recognised his hairdo.

They'd come into the same room I was in. They had hot chocolate. And they talked.

I recognised the whitecoat's voice. Sorta reminded me of boring black-and-white videos of Max at the school. He was, probably, the dude in charge of the avian-human experiment.

He was talking to Max. He gave her the hot chocolate, constantly made sure she wasn't looking in my direction. He tried to make her act kindly towards him.

And then he dropped a bombshell.

Max? Save the world? Get real. I, at least, had seen her fight a bunch of Erasers in a fast-food restaurant. Oh, wait, she didn't fight, she _ran away_.

The world is doomed.

-

"What do you want?"

Dr Gillams had attached the phone to a video screen- he was now staring at a live picture of his creator and mentor. The man who had taught him all he knew. The man who was now his worst enemy.

"It is not so much a matter of vot I vant, but vot you vant," ter Borcht replied. "You are vorking on 616, yah?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. What is it to you?"

"You know that ve both share the same goals- but I feel dat the vay that you are doing this- the vay I started- is wrong."

Gillams looked at his old mentor quizzically.

"Explain." One-word sentences were usually enough when talking to ter Borcht.

"You see, vilst you are vorking on the pathetic flying human front, ve have moved on to improving the human-lupine combinations."

Gillams was stunned. He knew that the Erasers were tougher and more powerful than the bird-kids, but they had far too short a life span…

"Good luck with that," he said slowly. He knew that ter Borcht had a very short temper- provoking him was the best way to get rid of him.

"Ve hav recently made a breakthrough on the life span of the erasers, and are hoping that this will see the end of those pathetic flying failures."

"Auch, ja. Und vot is dis breakthrough?" Gillams also knew ter Borcht hated people taking the mickey out of his accent. So he did it all the time.

"If you come to California," ter Borcht said, "I can show you."

"When would you like me to come?"

"Tomorrow, 11 o'clock."

"Let me check my diary," Gillams pulled out his diary from his pocket, and turned to a random page. "Nope sorry, I've got my _German_ lesson then."

Ter Borcht was not impressed.

-

'_Angel, can you hear me?'_ I thought, as loudly as a possibly could. If it's possible to have loud thoughts. Which it probably isn't.

'Who are you?' Angel was wary – well, anyone would be if they were cooped up in a dog crate for so long.

Still, a wave of relief swept over me. I had made contact.

'I'm a friend of Max. Just tell her experiment 615-Alpha is in the next room.'

'_Ok,' _Angel replied. Although she'd obviously checked my mind to see if I was evil and therefore knew it'd be fine to tell Max this, she still seemed unsure. I, on the other hand, was just relieved I'd got my message through.

Of course, what with my life being as bad as it was at the moment, my relief didn't last long.

"Hello? You are avake, ya?" I heard a voice form the other side of the room. German accent. I had a bad feeling about this.

I made snoring noises.

"I can tell you are not sleeping. Your heart and breathing rates are far too high."

I made louder snoring noises.

My crate was knocked sideways as the German dude kicked it. I kinda guessed I was getting on his nerves.

I snored really loudly.

"Since you are asleep, you von't mind if I tell you that Max is dead."

Max? Dead? She was alive only, like, ten minutes ago. What could have happened?

I thought of loads of things I could yell at him – insults, bad language. But try as I might I could only bring myself to say one thing.

"What?"

"See for yourself," he said.

He unlatched my cage, I stepped out gingerly. He pointed to a big LCD screen. It showed a picture of Max, in a dog-crate, on a trolley.

"Sorry, did I miss something here? That looks more like a living Max than a dead Max."

"She is as good as dead," German dude said. "They are taking her to the yard. You know vat happens there, ya?"

Tears started to form in my eyes. Max, the yard…

For those of you who don't know, the yard is the only outside bit of the school they allow mutants into. And monkeys. Usually the mutants are called 'erasers', or some other predatory combo from what I remember of the CCTV. And the monkeys are called 'dinner'.

"Monkeys" in that last sentence can easily be replaced with "adolescent avian-human hybrid".

Now you understand why I was crying.

On the screen the trolley wheeled onto tarmac; they were outside. Someone lifted the crate of the trolley and an Eraser bent down and started talking to Max, taunting her. In less than a minute she'd be dead.

"Turn it off," I pleaded. "I don't want to see any more."

Tears were streaming down my face. The man pressed a button on the desk, and the screen switched to static.

I turned away, huddled in a ball. Crying.

-

AN: Whoa, emotional bit. You all know vat happens, but try to play along, ya?

Writing ter Borcht lines is the most fun in the world! Please R+R. You authors who are reading this know how inspiring it is, you readers just take my word for it.

Danke Schön.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- I don't own Maximum Ride. Can I go to sleep now?

--

Chapter 6

"Where the hell are they going?" Asked Jack.

He was talking about Gazzy and Iggy – the only two members of the flock who weren't caught by the Erasers. And he had a point. They were going in the opposite direction to the erasers. Some rescue plan.

Robbie Looked form the erasers to Gazzy and Iggy, and back again. He couldn't decide which to follow.

"Robbie?"

It was Amy. "Are you ok?"

Robbie turned away, trying to think. If they followed the erasers they could get Fox back and he would no longer have the stress of leading. However, they'd also fail the mission by neglecting Gazzy and Iggy. Robbie needed time to think.

"Jack, chase the erasers. Find out where they're going. I need to decide what to do, and we don't want to lose them." So saying he spiralled down to the ground, and sat with his arms folded, thinking. 'Abandon the mission, or save Fox?' Difficult choice. He couldn't decide which of the options he hated less.

The more he thought about it, the more he ended up blaming Fox. If he hadn't stopped paying attention to where the flock was going, he wouldn't have got shot, and they wouldn't be in this mess. And now he was thinking of going to save the guy who got them into this mess.

The he started to blame Gillams. He wished with all his heart he had never been 'changed'. He hated this mission. It sucked. He wished, just for one day, he could be normal. A human. Not 98% human, 100%.

The more he thought about this, the angrier he became. And then his anger changed into something different. Something new, something even more painful. Unconsciously, he started to cry. Gently at first, and then he noticed. And he became angry with himself for crying, and that made the tears worse.

Robbie put his head in his hands and his knees on his thighs and cried.

"Hey, don't cry," Amy's voice was gentle, caring and smooth.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just… leading's so stressful. How does Fox cope?"

Amy smiled at him.

"He's just had more experience than you."

"Yeah, but still. How?"

Amy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed it again, as if she was not sure whether to say what she was thinking.

Eventually, she decided.

"I think, at times, he faces this sort of problem. And when that happens, he thinks of what he loves most in the world, and how leading badly would affect that. I think that's what keeps him going, the thought that Max would die if he works badly."

Robbie looked directly into Amy's eyes. He was no longer crying, but he was still unsure about this method.

"That wouldn't work for me. I don't love Max, how could that work?"

"Well, who do you love then?" Amy asked.

--

Crying. Not something I do a lot. But if the avian American you love dies, what are you supposed to do?

Yeah, I'll admit it. I loved Max. I sincerely hope I get invited to the funeral. I could make a speech. I'm good at speeches.

Who am I kidding? How can I make jokes at a time like this? And how could I just give up on Max? There had to be at least another minute before she died. I had to do something.

But what?

--

Robbie was shocked by the question – he'd never really thought about it before. He'd never really known any girls other than Amy, and he certainly didn't love her.

He didn't, did he? He was sure he didn't – surely if he did he'd have known by now. But the more he thought about it, the more he looked at her face, the more uncertain he became. It was a crazy thought; she'd been his friend since childhood. But he'd always thought about her differently to the others. He'd put that down at the time to the fact that she was a girl and the others weren't.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

"Well," he started, blushing.

"Yes?" Amy asked, unaware of what the answer would be.

Robbie moved his head closer to hers. He wasn't sure what to do, but he was moving unconsciously.

"You," he whispered. A smile spread slowly across Amy's face, and Robbie found he was smiling to. Then, without any warning, Amy pulled him into a hug, and kissed him, square on the mouth.

--

I could think of a million different ways of finding Max, and keeping her alive. All of them involved a daring rescue, a fight to the death (for my enemies – although a few ideas did involve me dying in the effort). Some of them involved a bit of help from Robbie, or Geev, or Amy. One even involved help from Jack.

And another thing they had in common? They involved me not being trapped in the room I was in right now.

--

"So, where've you two been?" Nathan asked snidely.

"None of your beeswax, Nathan," Robbie replied.

Nathan opened his mouth to make another snide comment, but Robbie's phone went off.

"Yes?" He asked immediately.

"I know where the school is," Jack replied, his voice fuzzy by mobile. "I'll send you the co-ordinates by text."

Robbie was about to reply, when Geev shouted, "GET DOWN!"

"I'll get back to ya on that," Robbie said, going into a steep dive as he hung up. He tucked his wings in, and angled himself further downwards.

As they landed, Robbie looked over at Geev.

"What the hell was that for?" He asked. Geev pointed up, and Robbie looked.

To see a large-ish group of Eagles and two Avian-Americans heading in the direction of the school.

'_Ok,' _Robbie thought, _'Let's wait 5 mins, then chase after them.'_

'_Gotcha, handsome,' _replied Amy, so only Robbie could hear. Robbie blushed.

--

Breakout. In films, breaking out of any place is easy – you blow a hole in the wall and run. That doesn't help much when:

1) You're in a dog crate

2) You have no explosives

3)You have no idea where the exit is

No. 1 is easy to deal with. Well, when you know how to pick a lock it is.

Next comes the tricky bit of my plan – where is Max? In the yard. Where's the Yard. Outside. Where am I? Locked inside. How did German dude get out of here? I didn't see him leave.

On that matter, how am _I_ going to get out of here? There isn't a door?

Damn.

--

"Ok," Robbie said, "Geev, shrink and pick the lock."

Geev's ability to shrink came in really handy sometimes. Like, when a door needed to be opened. He could shrink, fly inside a lock, and push at the little tumblers until the door opened.

Robbie concluded that Geev was, therefore, more useful than Jack.

The door opened slowly. Gingerly, Robbie stepped inside. He was in a room. There was a table, and a wide-screen TV – currently showing static. There was an open dog-crate on the floor, and a rather annoyed Fox standing around, trying to see a way out.

Fox span around.

"How the hell did you get in here?" He demanded in that simple, straight to the point way he had.

"We opened the door," Geev said simply. For the first time, it seemed, Fox noticed the open door behind them.

"That wasn't there before. Close it again."

Robbie motioned for Nathan and Jack to come inside. He closed the door. Which disappeared.

"What…" He started.

"Ok," Fox said, in his pay-attention-to-this-or-else voice. "How are we gonna save Max and the flock from certain death?"

--

"Certain _what_?" Replied Amy.

They honestly had no idea what was going on. Max was in danger, we had to do something. It's our job.

So we did.

Jack, being weird, had some explosives. Where he got them I have no idea. He just had them.

Another insight into the wonderful world of Jack.

So we blew a hole in the wall. Pristine, white, hospital-like corridors were behind the wall we chose. So we went through them. For a top-secret science lab, The School is pretty deserted. We passed one scientist. One. You'd think that place was better staffed, wouldn't you?

Eventually we found an exit. Into the yard. Which is where we wanted to go. How nice for us.

Do you know how much I hate being late for a rescue? It's bad enough being worked up about not being able to get to the place where you need to rescue someone. It's worse when, when you finally work out how to rescue them, you're about a minute late.

At least someone else had done it. That was both a plus and a minus. A plus because Max was alive, a minus because I have a little something called "pride". I consider it rather important.

--

AN: Ok. That was… different. But I do need to get used to writing 3rd Person in this fic. You just wait till after New York…

Anyway, please Read and Review. I decided to write this out in full this time. Hopefully I might get reviews. Hopefully.

Next chapter=Better weapons. Nathan's been bugging me since I gave him an AK-47. So, as a special treat, I'm gonna give him, well, you'll see…

R+R!


	8. Chapter 7

Quick AN: Hey, I've just realised that I've got the name wrong! It's 625, not 615! Doh! Anyway, I've gone through and corrected everything, as well as stupid layout-y stuff. So – enjoy!

--

Disclaimer- Read last chapter for disclaimer. I'm too tired.

--

**1 day previously**

Back again. Back at this stupid place. Dr. Gillams' lab. With bad suit guy.

"These," said Bad Suit Guy, "Are your new weapons. They are specifically designed for killing erasers, and…" Bad Suit Guy seemed startled that my hand was up. Hey, I do have manners.

I just don't use them often.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Why can't we keep our old weapons?" I asked. "They haven't done anything weird so far, like fail to kill an eraser, so why do we need new ones?"

He had an answer. Remember, people in Bad Suits have answers for everything – never argue with them.

"Your old weapons were designed for basic combat. If, as you say, the flock has just escaped from the School, Itex are likely to send lots of erasers after them. In short – you need better guns."

I have to admit, I was surprised by the amount of logic that Bad suit Guy could come up with. In my opinion, he didn't seem like much of a thinker. I wasn't sure if he even had a brain. He certainly didn't have a sense of fashion. In short, I was pretty surprised by the prospect of his intelligence existing.

Bad Suit Guy, too, was surprised. By the lack of witty replies I came up with for the next hour while he demonstrated our new weapons.

Jack got his old twin pistols replaced with a shotgun and, for even closer range, a Desert Eagle mark VII pistol. Geev had the same.

Amy and Nathan had what could only be described as miniguns. They fired at 2000 rpm, and only had enough ammo for a total of 1 minutes firing continuously (that, people, is 2000 rounds) – because, let's face it, we couldn't carry much more than that – but they were still awesome.

Robbie and I simply got "bulked-up" versions of our old guns. With better knives, and a Desert Eagle each. How nice.

--

Present Day

'_Robbie,' _I asked. _'Is there something going on between you and Amy?'_

For the last few hours, I'd sort of noticed that Amy and Robbie were acting a lot more friendly around each other. And seemed to be rather comfortable together.

'_What would make you think that?' _Robbie replied.

'_Well,' _I began, _'There's the fact that Amy stayed up to go on your watch with you last night. The fact that Nathan has given me a detailed description of what he saw earlier. And that you seem to be looking over at her every minute or so.'_

Personally, I thought this was the best logic I could ever come up with. It worked – Robbie gave up, rolled his eyes at me, and went to "sit next to" Amy on the side of the cliff. Hugging would be a better description, in my opinion, but nevertheless that is what he insisted it was. Several times over.

Yes. We were back at lake Mead. This was not my decision – trust me on that one. Where we go is usually Max's choice. I sat down on the edge of the cliff, several metres away from Robbie and Amy, and listened. I was hoping I would hear Max's voice.

And I did.

Just.

I sincerely hoped that what I heard was not what I thought I'd heard, and that, if it was, it was spoken as a general comment to the whole of her flock, rather than just one member.

"I love you."

It didn't sound like all of a sentence. It sounded like there was more, that she was saying something else. But I couldn't hear much. Only that.

--

It was raining.

I had woken up, and it was raining. This, of course, would have been perfectly normal had we not been in a desert. I had also woken up to find that Robbie and Amy certainly liked each other. I mean, kissing at the crack of dawn…

I coughed. In my thoughts. They broke apart, rather surprised that I was awake.

'_I could say that it was good to see you two up,' _I thought, smiling and raising one eyebrow.

'_Yeah, you could say that,' _Robbie thought back.

'Or I could ask why the two of you are not getting anywhere near enough sleep when you know perfectly well we're flying to New York tomorrow.'

They didn't know what to say to that.

'_Alright,' _I thought, pushing past Robbie, _'my watch. Now get some sleep.'_

--

Quite a few people around the world enjoy an early morning walk. Some prefer to go for a run before they eat, whereas those who live in the warmer areas of the world quite often indulge in a relaxing swim.

Some bird kids enjoy early morning flights. I don't.

Yes, there's the thrill and the joy of it all, and that graceful feeling – not to mention the absence of erasers. But even with all of that I still don't particularly enjoy it. Maybe it's 'cos I've been up half the night guarding my friends. Just an idea.

The view was pretty amazing, too. I have never seen anything more amazing than the tops of clouds. Gets me every time. The pure, white, candyfloss (that's the British name for cotton candy. See, told ya I was British!) like surfaces, shining bright, glistening in the sunlight. If I were any good at poems, I'd write one about it. I might do one day.

I could see Max and the flock ahead of us. We were slacking, only a few miles behind them – mainly 'cos we couldn't be bothered to hide when we were so tired, and partly 'cos I was worried about an attack.

Hey. We were following people who had just broken out of a top-secret facility. The likelihood is that they would be followed afterwards and attacked.

Of course, I was not expecting one of them to suddenly drop like a stone.

A quick glance told me it was Max. I could see the flock's expressions, all to clearly, even from this distance – they were all shocked. Within moments of taking in the situation, I was flying as fast as I could towards Max's falling form. I saw Fang swooping down after her.

'_Not today, Buster,' _I thought, _'It's my turn to be the hero.'_

I knew I could make it before he did – I knew I was faster. I wanted to get there, to save Max. Because if I lost her...

But what worried me was _why_ Max had dropped so suddenly. It didn't make any sense.

And then, as my mind exploded with pain and my wings folded instinctively into my back, it did.

--

Pain.

That's all I could think about. The overwhelming pain, forcing my skull outwards, burning my mind to shreds. It was terrible. I wanted it to end. I wanted to die.

I was falling. I knew that much. I didn't know how fast or for how much longer, but I knew I was falling. I felt, for a second, some moisture cling to my skin – I had gone through the clouds.

Brilliant. It'd all be over soon. I'd be dead.

--

"Fox!" Robbie watched in horror as his best friend of too many years fell through the clouds, tumbling and twisting as he gained speed. He could see the team behind him, out of the corners of his eyes, and they were frozen in fear – just like him.

By the time Robbie snapped out of the paralysing fear, it was already too late.

'_Come on, faster!' _Robbie willed himself as he dove swiftly down through the clouds. The cool, misty droplets raked his skin, hitting him with enough force to hurt him, but he didn't care. He needed Fox. The team would fail without him.

And then, as Robbie burst through the underside of the cloud, his eagle eyesight noticed a shape on the ground, miles below. A dark shape, which, as he approached, began more and more to resemble a human.

It was Fox.

Robbie slowed down, and hit the ground running. His feet skidded against the tarmac surface of the empty highway, and he grinded to a halt by the corpse of his best friend. At first, he could not believe that the body before him was dead – he searched frantically for a pulse, a breath, some sign that would show him that Fox was alive.

He could find none.

Robbie knelt by Fox's side. And wept.

--

AN: OMG! Is it the end? Hmm, main character dead… at least I now know what it's like to kill myself off…

And yes, it may seem like the end – but it isn't. Not quite yet…

R+R! PLEASE! (Thank you)


	9. Chapter 8

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS A BORING LEGAL REQUIREMENT:

Disclaimer – I do not own Maximum Ride. I do own the original characters in this fic. I own some of the plots. END OF LEGAL REQUIREMENT.

--

Robin Woodrow was not well known for crying. In fact, in his lifetime, he had only cried three times. He usually expressed his feelings in other ways, but this time he had no choice. This time there was no other way.

_This_ time, his best friend was dead.

'_Robbie.'_

He looked up, salty tears streaming down his face. Amy was crouching next to him, her hand on his shoulder, her eyes, too, damp.

"He's dead," was all Robbie could say. He saw the flash of recognition behind Amy's eyes before she leaned her head gently against his shoulder, and began to sob quietly into his shirt.

--

"Dr. Gillams?"

Gillams looked up at his new secretary who was standing at his door, biting her lower lip. He waved a hand at her – his signal for "I'm busy" – and turned back to the computer simulation.

"It's about 625," Rebecca continued somewhat shakily. Gillams' head snapped up, and he stared at her intently. "The leader, Alpha, is…"

"Yes?" Gillams snapped when Rebecca paused for too long.

"…Dead," she finished, her eyes brimming with tears. _'Poor Girl,' _Gillams thought – he knew that Rebecca had had a soft spot for Fox back when she was just a lab assistant.

Now, since they were no longer using the labs, she had been re-employed as a secretary.

Then Gillams realised the exact meaning of the message his secretary had just delivered, and he was frozen with shock.

'_No, not Alpha.'_

"Very well," he replied after a long pause, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "carry on as normal. Inform Beta-Zero that he is to take over."

Rebecca left the room with a nod. And, Gillams thought, some tears.

--

"Ok, guys," Robbie addressed the… no, his flock. "This is gonna be tough. We're one man down. But I need you to do something for me." Robbie glanced around, meeting his friend's eyes and finding a mixture of emotions. Sadness, hate, longing… they were all there, flowing in a sea of emotions that flowed through their lives.

"In a few minutes some of Gillams' men will come to retrieve the corpse. I need you to look like a fully functioning group – cos if we don't, they will have to… you know," he finished lamely. He looked around. Jack had his arm around Geev's shoulders, comforting him. Tears were welling up in Geev's eyes, but he wiped them away, shrugged Jack's arm off him, and turned to Robbie, a strong look on his face.

Jack himself didn't appear too upset on the outside. That was one of Jack's 'talents' – he could make himself appear emotionless, even when he was breaking up inside.

Nathan was biting his top lip, anxious, but he, too, nodded when Robbie looked at him. Amy smiled at Robbie.

"You're not a bad motivational speaker, you know that, don't you?"

Robbie blushed, and, grinning, he turned around.

--

Excerpt from Dr Gillams' Journal

Update on Experiment 625-

_625-Alpha _**–DECEASED-**

_625-Beta-Zero has taken up the mantle of leadership. I am hoping that he will perform to adequate standards. He is also in a relationship with 625-Sigma-One._

_625-Beta-Five has proven himself to be a strong fighter. He is also capable of appearing 'blank' – without emotion. NB: Never play him at poker._

_625-Sigma-One has shown to be exceptionally caring, especially of 625-Beta-Zero. This could be seen as strength, but equally could be seen as a weakness._

_625-Sigma-Nine, as the second youngest of the group, is remarkably strong-willed. He seems to be able to control his emotions with great skill and maturity beyond his age._

_625-Epsilon-Seven is the most affected by the death of 625-Alpha. However, he looks up to 625-Beta-Five, and the two are great friends. This is good – as the youngest, 625-Epsilon-Seven needs a close friend._

End of Excerpt.

-

The helicopter flew through the air quickly; it's blades cutting through the air like a knife through butter. The scientists onboard waited patiently for the arrival, but were somewhat disappointed at the death of their greatest achievement.

Nonetheless, Dr Johnson was the first to step out of the helicopter, his emotionless face blank and uncaring. He took a step towards 625.

"Where is he?" Johnson asked, his voice empty, devoid of all emotion. Beta-Zero pointed over his shoulder, his eyes never once leaving Johnson's face. Johnson motioned for his assistants to take the corpse on board, before turning to 625.

--

'Bad Suit Guy', as Fox had once called him, was standing before them once again. Robbie couldn't help but smile slightly as old memories came flooding back – memories that should have depressed him further.

"These," said Bad Suit, holding out what looked like bulky, silver watched, "are holographic, appearance-changing devices. You can change how you appear to people to one of fifty pre-set 'characters', ranging from unknown street urchins to top scientists."

Robbie's eyes widened at the thought of these new devices. The espionage work they would be able to do was unbelievable!

"We suggest you use them only in times of great emergency, or when in close contact with the Erasers. By now, the Erasers know what you look like, too – they will be aiming to kill you as well."

Leaving them with these words of warning, Bad Suit turned, and headed back towards the helicopter. The shiny, silver watches sitting on a tree stump.

As the helicopter took off, Robbie could not help staring after it, at the departure of his best friend. For the first time since the helicopter landed, a tear came to Robbie's eye.

--

Previously

Dr Gillams stood, his back pressed against the whitewashed wall, not daring to breathe. He was watching the young girl' dog crate intently, waiting for the perfect moment to act.

He watched as Dr Reilly typed away on his laptop, updating the logs of Subject Eleven's data. After all, the last time Itex had control of Subject Eleven, she had been a baby – now they had a chance to test her. To find her limits. To see what she was capable of.

It made him sick.

A young, female doctor walked past the place he was hidden – this was his chance. He quickly hit her around the head with his fist, and she crumpled to the floor. He quickly stripped her of her lab coat. Putting it on, he dragged the unconscious scientist into the same nook in the wall that he had been standing in, before wheeling the trolley into the room with Reilly's equipment.

All he had to do now was think the false information, as if it were true. That way, Subject Eleven would undoubtedly fall for the trap…

--

AN: Whoa! What could Dr Gillams be up to? What is this false information? And why the hell have I included Reilly (I think that's how to spell his name, I've lost my copy of "Angel Experiment")??? All the answers to these, except the last one, will be answered… sometime soon.

R+R!


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer – I. Do. Not. Own. Maximum. Ride.

And if you don't know that by now, then you haven't been paying much attention.

--

_Ugh._

It was pitch-black. Completely dark – absolutely no light whatsoever. And there was very little space… so little space…

And the pain…

The pain was still there. Why hadn't it gone away? Why couldn't it just go?

Doesn't pain end after _death_?

--

Robbie exhaled, a sharp breath mingled with a tone of pain and hard, physical work, and he put down the log he was dragging across the forest floor. It was heavy, long, and somewhat pointless – at least Robbie thought so. Jack had claimed it was necessary for the campfire.

The campfire.

Why had Robbie even agreed to do it in the first place? All it was going to do was act as a homing beacon for erasers, who would be able to see it from a chopper. Most likely it would burn the whole forest down, which would most definitely _not_ be a good thing.

Robbie sat down on the end of the log, and quietly regained some of his lost strength. He pulled Fox's backpack off his back gracefully, swinging it down onto his lap and unzipping it in one fluid motion. He reached inside, and pulled out the energy drink he had put in earlier. He flicked the cap off, and, putting the opening of the bottle in his mouth, squeezed. A cool jet of juice shot from the bottle onto the roof of his mouth, pouring down its edges and settling in a puddle on his tongue.

Gulping down the first few mouthfuls, Robbie clicked the lid back onto the bottle, and, stowing it away in the backpack for later use, picked up the end of the log, resuming his long and arduous drag through the dark forest.

After a time that felt far longer than it actually was, filled with more rests than actual work, Robbie walked through the lining of trees and into the clearing that they had chosen to camp in.

Which is when he saw that Jack had already set up the fire, and it was burning, sending a pillar of flame ten feet into the air, with tendrils of smoke slowly rising up and above the top of the trees far above, Robbie was absolutely frustrated beyond belief.

"You mean that the last few hours of my work was completely unnecessary?" he practically screamed at Jack, as soon as he had laid the log down. Jack shrugged.

"Actually, we do need that log – to sit on. Do you have any idea how hard the ground is at this time of year?" he asked, turning back to his fire as he did so. Reluctantly, Robbie pulled the log closer to the fire, and, sure that steam was coming out of his ears, sat down upon it, his arms folded tightly against his chest. Amy was the only one brave – or, perhaps, stupid – enough to sit with him. She put her arm around his shoulders, and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

Robbie's evening brightened up after that.

--

After some time, Robbie noticed that someone was missing.

"Where's Nathan?" he asked Amy, an expression of concern lining his face, when he realised that the boy's shiny, blonde hair was nowhere to be seen – strange, as Nathan liked fires almost as much as Jack.

"He's watching the flock – you know, keeping an eye on them," Jack called over, without bothering to turn away from the fire he was now keeping going. "He'll be back in a few minutes."

Robbie smiled gently, glad that his little scare was about nothing rather than something. He turned and faced Geev, his hand still around Amy's shoulders.

"Got any food?" he asked, hungrily. Geev shrugged, and started looking through the supply bag. When Robbie realised, after a few seconds of watching Geev rummaging through empty food packaging, that food was not going to come instantly, he sighed, and turned back towards the fire.

The wind changed direction – although it was still blowing softly, it now blew a wave of warm air from the fire right into his face. It felt amazing, as if he had just dipped into a warm bath. The thought reminded him that none of them had washed in a week.

He didn't really care.

He turned his head slightly, looking over his right shoulder, for no reason than to turn his head away from the intense heat generated by the now-massive fire. His eyes lazily wandered across the row of trees that lined the edge of the clearing, when he saw a movement among them. He instantly tensed – an involuntary reaction – but relaxed again as Nathan walked through the bushes.

"Amy," he called. "Your watch."

Reluctantly, Robbie let go of Amy as she stood up. She walked briskly across the clearing, and into the cover of the trees. Only when he could no longer make out her silhouette did Robbie turn back to the fire. Jack had somehow found another log, and placed it next to his. Sitting down on it, Jack smiled at Robbie.

"Found another one just over there," he said, by means of explanation, pointing towards the trees right behind the fire.

Robbie wanted nothing more than to hit him.

--

The Pain.

It might have been fading, but there was no real way to tell. No, it must have been fading. Before, the area was unnoticeable – now it was possible to make out walls. Tight walls, so, so close, there as if to keep the pain in, rather than let it loose.

--

"So apparently they've got human parents, and there are files on them in New York!" Nathan finished. He had been telling the story of what he had overheard from the flock, and his tale was just as surprising to his friends as it was to the flock itself.

Robbie sighed.

"We'll be going to New York next, then," he said sadly, knowing full well that it was a long journey, and would probably take them seven hours. And that was without rests.

Everyone else, of course, was excited about this news.

"New York! Oh my God, that is _so _cool!"

"I wanna go to Central Park, and go on the subway, and eat loads of food…"

"We're going to New York! Oh yeah!"

Robbie buried his face in his hands, and moaned. How could they all be excited about going to a big city? About being in a place that's nigh on impossible to hide in? About trying to _not lose the flock_ in the crowds?

Nevertheless, Robbie tried to sound enthusiastic about the idea, knowing full well that if he did not, Geev and Nathan would pester him all the more about why he wasn't enjoying himself.

"Well, come on guys, lets get some rest," he said. "We've got a long flight tomorrow, and we're gonna need it."

Reluctantly, Nathan and Geev pulled out their sleeping bags from the supply kit, and laid them out on the forest floor. Jack began to, but Robbie caught his eye, and gestured for the cover of the trees.

After he had made sure that the others were asleep, Robbie walked slowly over to the edge of the clearing, with Jack following close behind him. When he reached the first few trunks, he turned around, and faced Jack.

"Are you really that excited about New York?" He asked, his eyebrows raised. Jack sighed, and smiled.

"I think New York could be fun," he started, much to Robbie's surprise, "but it is true – we're going to have a massive flight, and God knows how many difficulties to face when we're there. The cons totally outweigh the pros."

"But," he continued, showing a remarkable depth of insight that Robbie had never thought possible from him, "there isn't really much we're going to need to do there. The flock will have enough protection merely from the same heavy crowds that will make it hard for us to keep a close eye on them. I think we're going to have far less work cut out for us than usual, and that'll give us some time to relax."

Robbie nodded – he hadn't considered that at all. He smiled.

"Well, I'm going to go and find Amy. You go and catch some sleep."

Jack smiled, and turned back towards the clearing. He poured some sand, which he had found in the supply bag, onto the fire – not enough to douse it completely, but enough so that it would die down far quicker.

Robbie, too, smiled, and began to walk further into the cover of the trees, until Jack, the clearing, and the fire had all faded into the background of tree trunks and darkness.

--

AN: Wow. That went amazingly, and was possibly the best chapter so far, in my opinion. Oh well. That's just me being bigheaded, I suppose…

Good news: I've got 9 reviews! Or, at least, I did have when I wrote this. I've probably got about 11 now… Hooray! Thanks to all those people who have reviewed – it means the world to me!


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer – Do I need to say this anymore? For yet another time, I DON'T OWN MAXIMUM RIDE! Honestly, some people…

--

"Dr Gillams?"

Gillams looked up with a sigh, turning away from the simulation. He was so close to perfecting 626… he could taste success in the air around him. He knew that Roland and the rest of Itex could be nowhere near as close as he was, and that gave him even more motivation to finish 626 before them.

"What is it _this _time?" He asked, an air of disappointment filling his voice. Rebecca smiled, and nodded towards the door.

"You've got a visitor. Won't give a name, but he says he's a friend of Roland ter Borcht."

Gillams sighed again – was ter Borcht going to interrupt him every time he cam this close to perfecting the project? Was this all part of his scheme?

He pulled himself out of his chair, his jaw muscles clenching with the effort – he had not left that chair for almost two whole days, and he had had little to eat in that time. He held himself up on his desk. Rebecca, seeing the effort it was taking him to merely stand up, walked briskly over to him, and, putting her arm under his shoulders, helped him up.

"Thank you," Gillams said, regaining his composure. He walked awkwardly across the room, getting more and more used to the action. By the time he had reached the door, it had become natural again.

--

Amy woke up, at first not knowing where she was. Her head was leaning against something that was soft on the surface, yet solid underneath. This confused her – many things confused her early in the morning.

She was surrounded by trees, so she knew she was in a forest… oh, yes. The forest. That means the thing she was leaning on was…

Robbie.

Amy giggled as she sat up and saw the uncomfortable position that Robbie had been sleeping in – his back was arched over a rock, one arm splayed out to one side, the other buried underneath Fox's backpack.

Amy gently nudged Robbie, to try and wake him up – he grumbled, and rolled over, but stayed asleep. Amy sighed, and rolled her eyes. She looked around her, and, after some examination of the forest floor, picked up a suitably pointy stick, and poked Robbie in the side.

--

Robbie awoke with a groan, his hand moving down to his side – for some unknown reason, it hurt. He opened his eyes, and the forest around him appeared bleary and out of focus. He raised both his hands to his eyes, and, curling them into a fist, rubbed his eyes gently for a while. Replacing one hand at his side, Robbie opened his eyes once more.

Only to see Amy sitting up in front of him, a broad grin stretching across her face, and a sharp stick in her hand.

'_Did you wake me up by poking me…'_ Robbie started.

'_With this?'_ Amy asked, looking at the stick. _'Yes.'_

Robbie rolled his eyes at her, and started to put his things back in his backpack. He rolled up his sleeping bag, then pushed it into the stuff bag – gently at first, then more aggressively when it didn't go in. He the folded up and fastened the carry mat, before finally putting his coat on the top. He did up the drawstring, and clipped the bag's top down.

'_Ready yet?'_ Amy asked, cheekily. Robbie shook his head disbelievingly, unsure how one person could be so annoying and so loveable at once. He stood up, and gestured for Amy to lead them back to camp.

--

The pain was becoming far less.

It did not seem like it, but it most definitely was. It was as if there had been a fog, in which you could only see as far as the tip of your nose. Then the fog had lifted, slightly, and you could see further – but the transition happened so slowly that you were not aware of the effect of the fog becoming less at all. Yes, that was exactly what it was like.

Only the pain was getting so much weaker that it was possible to have coherent thoughts…

--

Robbie felt bad, leaving. He was leaving behind memories, leaving behind important memories. He was leaving the place where Fox had died forever. And although that felt like a good thing, as it would help him to distance himself from the pain it caused, it also felt like he was giving up, somehow. It felt final. It felt like… acceptance.

And Robbie wasn't ready to accept yet.

Nonetheless, he took off last, throwing himself into the air and pulling his large, powerful wings down. He rushed up quickly, desperate to leave before the overwhelming desire to return kicked in. As he reached the rest of the group, he kept his eyes pinned on Max's flock, who were flying about three miles ahead.

Taking one last glance back at the forest, the clearing, and the surrounding area, Robbie bit his bottom lip, and turned away.

Forever.

--

"Hello, Dr Gillams," he said.

The visitor was tall and well built, muscles lining his arms and legs. He wore a short-sleeved top, and grey denim jeans. His brown leather jacket was slung over his shoulder in a casual fashion. But what startled Rebecca most about Gillams' visitor was his face.

His face was sharp. He _was_ handsome, there was no denying it, but in a cold, almost animal-like way. His mouth was stretched across his face in a huge smile – a _cruel_ smile. His eyes seemed to gleam, and he looked almost… feral.

"Hello Ari," Gillams replied coolly. He did not seem happy to see this 'Ari', and Rebecca could only presume that it was due to his connection to ter Borcht.

"Could I have a word?" Ari asked, somehow making the simple, polite words sound menacing.

"Of course," Gillams replied, a mocking kindness in his voice. "What would you like to talk about?"

Ari shot a glance at Rebecca. He looked worried, but also puzzled. He turned away quickly.

"How about somewhere more private?"

Gillams smiled, and pointed towards his office. He held out his arm, gesturing that Ari should go first. Ari nodded. Rebecca found it strange to see two men, so obviously filled with hatred for each other, to exchange formalities.

"Dr Gillams?" she called, remembering the memo sitting on her desk. "Twenty minutes until the Post Mortem."

Gillams nodded, and turned to face her quickly. Seeing the worried expression on her face, he smiled reassuringly, telling her, by the action, not to worry – he would be there.

"Oh," Ari said in surprise, as he stepped through the doorway, "who died?"

"Just one of our older experiments," Gillams answered, shutting the door behind him. The door was soundproofed, and the silence that followed engulfed Rebecca. She was still worried – she did not know what Ari wanted to talk about, and she was sure it wasn't just a friendly visit. Ari looked dangerous. Rebecca didn't want Gillams to just step through that door and never come back…

… like Fox did.

--

AN: Ok, that ended completely differently to how I planned. Firstly, I planned for a massive revelation to happen now, but… that'll be next chapter, ok?

Anyway, I'd like to take the time to personally thank every single person who has reviewed this. Some of those reviews are so fantastic! I really appreciate the time and effort you guys put in to:

1) Reading this

2) Reviewing this

Anyway, thank you very much, all of you. I do try to answer all signed in reviews, but I can't promise everything. But I do try!

Thank you.


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer – I am not James Patterson, and I do not own Maximum Ride. Happy? Good.

--

**8 hours later**

Robbie landed behind Geev on the roof of the cathedral, grasping some of the spire with his hand. The view was… well, absolutely fantastic. Robbie could see endless miles of urban city, and, far away in the distance, the calm blue mass of the ocean.

Robbie smiled, and stretched out his arms, balancing on the roof, enjoying the feeling of the wind ruffling his over-long hair. He closed his eyes, and let the tranquillity wash over him, ignoring the strange looks Jack and Nathan were giving him.

'_Well,' _he thought, at last, _'we're here. What do you guys want to do first?'_

--

Rebecca waited anxiously for Dr. Gillams to return. She was somewhat suspicious of Ari, and had, while she had been waiting, done some research on him. He was undoubtedly Ari Batchelder, but that made no sense – _that_ Ari was seven years old. There was no way that…

"… If you could, anyway."

At long last the door to Gillams' office opened. Rebecca turned, a relieved smile on her face, towards the two men stepping casually out of the office. Gillams looked at her blankly, his face devoid of expression, while Ari smiled at her.

"Rebecca, would you mind showing our visitor out?" Gillams asked, his voice plain.

Rebecca stood, but Ari interrupted her with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, no, don't bother. I know the way out myself." He turned to Gillams. "And thank you, doctor. That was a most… enjoyable conversation."

A feral smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Ari Batchelder turned and walked swiftly out of the office. Rebecca turned to Dr Gillams, her brow creased in concern. She opened her mouth to ask him if he was alright, but he silenced her with a look.

"We must not postpone this Post Mortem any longer, Rebecca."

--

'_It's absolutely amazing,'_ thought Robbie, _'how quickly they can find "Dunkin' Donuts".'_

Robbie was sitting at a metallic table, in a doughnut shop, eating, unsurprisingly, doughnuts. To be honest with himself this was more surprising than he gave the situation credit for, as he had never really imagined this kind of situation – he was more expecting an 'on-the-run-constantly-with-no-chance-of-ever-having-a-normal-existance' type of life.

Despite this, he had got somewhat lucky in the last few days. Minus the death of his best friend, practically everything that had happened to him had been good. They hadn't been in a fight to the death for several days. Not that they had actually been in many fights to the death, but if the future went as Robbie guessed it would, they would be involved in a hell of a lot more.

Somehow, despite his general dislike of strong emotions, he had also managed to fall in love. He smiled, thinking, not for the first time, that he had been doing far too much smiling recently. But then, when you were in love, there was very little you could do _but_ smile…

'_Man, they're weird.'_

Robbie jumped a little, before remembering himself. Of course. He was slightly more psychic than everyone else. It was easy to forget that sort of thing when you spent so little time around people for whom it wasn't natural to hear their thoughts.

He turned to face the direction of the thoughts he had heard. Some small kid was watching his group of friends, and frowning. Robbie wondered why the kid was so confused by a bunch of teenagers – perhaps it was the lack of grown-ups? It was only after he speculated that he realised he did not have to. He quickly probed the boy's mind, and found the information he was looking for. He was right.

Robbie's ability worked very differently to that of your average psychic – someone such as Angel, or, according to Amy, some weirdo called Edward – although in essence it was very similar. Although he could do exactly what she – they – could do (i.e. pick up the thoughts floating around on the surface of someone's mind), he could delve deeper. It was as if every mind was a computer, and every thought was a file. Most psychics could see only the screen, and the document that was currently being written. But Robbie had access to every file in the system… every thought that had ever been thought…

It got confusing at times, and he would just naturally turn it off.

--

Voices.

Well, it was an improvement. Better than the darkness; the cold, hard loneliness of whatever imprisonment this was. To be honest, voices meant one thing – a chance at freedom.

Whatever their purpose, the voices were certainly heading towards this isolated prison. They grew louder and louder, until finally coming to rest seemingly at the far end of the small chamber. There was a slight pause for a moment, before the roof began to move and light penetrated into the otherwise-eternal darkness.

--

Rebecca had been prepared for many things when she took on this job. Mutants. Advanced robots. Hell, she had been prepared for the talking mice. It was as if nothing could shock her anymore; nothing on Earth was different enough – terrible enough – to frighten her.

But even she wasn't ready for the dead returning to life.

--

After a long-term imprisonment, prisoners often want to look around them at the outside world. Unfortunately, looking around at your surroundings doesn't always provide you with the information you want.

Rows upon rows of metallic filing cabinets lined the walls. The lights were bright white, almost clinical. There was a gurney and standing right next to it was Dr Gillams himself. And, to be honest, that was the greatest clue of all. The pent-up anger from weeks of seemingly endless _death_ was about to explode.

"You put me in a _morgue!_" I screamed, remembering the sound of my voice and, of course, how much I loved it. The scream echoed and reverberated off every wall of the room, the metallic chiming of the cabinets resonating as the sound hit them. It was almost… intimidating. I sat up, a look of extreme hatred on my face.

I felt that'd be enough to let them know I was still alive.

--

AN: Ok, short chapter. I really couldn't get enough filling material to get this to be a complete-length chapter, so you'll have to bear with me for a bit. Sorry I took so long (again) – blame my schoolwork and writer's block!

Thanks for all the hits and reviews! XD


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer – Whilst I am sure that some of you think I am (otherwise I wouldn't have to put this here, would I?) I am _not_ James Patterson. End of.

* * *

The first thing that went through the mind of Dr Gillams was: _'What the hell?'_

It wasn't often that he saw a miracle happen. Hell, miracles were a thing of the past for him. A childhood fantasy. They couldn't happen. _Science_ was what happened. Science was the method by which every seemingly supernatural occurrence could be documented, catalogued and – with some effort, admittedly – logically understood. _Miracle_ was the word given to a thing that people simply hadn't understood yet.

So, deep in his mind, Gillams' brain was striving to find an explanation for the event which had happened before his very eyes. Some kind of explanation; something that could rationalise the impossible. But, try as he might, nothing seemed to fit.

The dead couldn't come back to life.

That was a rule set in stone. It had been in existence as long as there had been life. Death was a final thing. The end. Over. Yet, judging by the evidence before his eyes, it didn't seem to be anymore.

* * *

"..not to _mention_ the near-suffocating darkness. I mean, have you _ever_ been stuck in pitch-black darkness for more than an hour without being able to sleep? Eh? Have you? And don't get me started on how much I hate morgues…"

I'd been ranting for about five minutes. To be honest, I think my arguments were starting to wear thin and Gillams was looking quite bored. _'Tough luck, buster,'_ I thought. _'This'll teach you to check if someone's dead…'_

_'Ok, admittedly I **was** dead, but that's beside the point –'_

* * *

Robbie was eating pot noodles when he heard the thought.

_'Tough luck, buster.'_

He froze.

_'This'll teach you to check if someone's dead.'_

He took a moment to calm his thoughts and put his fork back into the pot, rest the pot on the table and turn to the others, his expression blank.

"Did you guys hear th-"

_'Ok, admittedly I **was** dead, but that's beside the point –'_

Robbie decided that he was probably not going to get a chance to do anything in the real world, what with the sudden reappearance of a voice he'd not expected to be in his head again. He switched to talking mentally.

_'F-fox?'_ He asked, pushing the thought out carefully in the hopes that the others wouldn't notice. Thankfully, they were still staring at him in confusion after his interrupted sentence and showed no sign of noticing the telepathic communication.

"Nah, don't worry, it's noth-" he began.

_'Of course it's me, you moron. Who else would be talking to you like this?'_

_'Point taken,' _he replied. _'Now where the heck are you?'_

_'In a morgue'_ came the rather depressive response. _'Probably Dr. Gillams' lab, judging by the fact he's here. You?'_

_'New York City,'_ Robbie sent, barely suppressing a grin.

* * *

I turned calmly to the young doctor and his assistant.

"How far away are we fromNew York?"

Gillams looked gobsmacked.

"You've just come back from the dead, and you want to know whereNew Yorkis?" He replied incredulously. I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

"Well, since that's where everyone else is and I have a job to do…" I said, trailing off. Gillams raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid, Alpha, that we cannot let you go. This latest development of your healing abilities…"

"With all due respect," I interrupted, mentally reminding myself that the level of respect due in this situation was probably approaching nil, "I think the mission might actually come first. I'll send you a report in a few days. Goodbye."

With that, I stood up and walked out. I'd never really know if Gillams wanted to stop me or not. If I'm honest, I think he was just too confused by my apparent breach of the laws of nature to do anything.

_'Ok, guys. How the hell do I get to New York from here?'_

* * *

AN: Wow, it has been a while. I've literally had half this chapter on my computer for a few years now and never bothered to finish it yet. I do apologise for it being a little on the short side, but I promise you I'll be back in the swing of things soon!

Anyway, while my younger self was apt to say "please R&R" here I don't think I'm going to do that anymore. I honestly believe it is just a little bit desperate, so I'm just going to keep updating you with how I've felt about getting back to this story.

See ya'll next chapter!


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